


No one can hurt you now, come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.

by skyfallat221b



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Mini!Clint, deaged!clint, request
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:31:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyfallat221b/pseuds/skyfallat221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clint is deaged to 4 years of age, after having an encounter with a being from another dimension, it brings issues forward that Natasha isn't sure she can handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [f_romanoff_13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_romanoff_13/gifts).



It wasn't that having a 4 year old toddler running around the tower was a problem in itself. It was the fact that he almost only wanted to stay with Natasha, no matter what she was doing. Everybody understood perfectly why he did it, and nobody commented on it (except Stark, who always had a snarky remark for everything). But, the little boy needed to be taken care of, and there was the issue of him being Clint Barton.

The thing was, that nobody knew how it had happened.

Well, they had an idea, but they didn't know how it had happened exactly.

They had been on a mission in Albuquerque, that had involved beings from another dimension, but they had had it all under control. More or less. Stark had been knocked out of his suit, so he'd been put out to the flanks of the fight to help Clint out by overseeing, and using JARVIS and the head of the Mark XVI to recognize friend from foe, with Natasha further up, Thor, Steve and Hulk trying to figure out how to stop the inflow of the beings.

Clint had nocked an arrow with a wire, which had been connected to his hip (for some obscure reason, he'd chosen that arrow instead of an explosive one), and the being he'd shot had crawled its way up the wire, bleeding out yellow pus and blood all over the floor.

The only way anybody would believe that the 5 year old boy roaming the tower was Clint, was, well, because Stark had captured the entire thing on video.

The being had disapparated into a heavy and thick smoke the moment he'd reached Clint, and they'd both disappeared in a yellow cloud, from which JARVIS and Stark couldn't read a thing : it had been as if the smoke had been pure energy or something. JARVIS had scanned it as static electricity, but he hadn't really been able to locate either the being or Clint behind the wall of smoke.

It was only when the smoke had disappeared that Stark finally got a check on lifesigns, and Clint's vitals. The only thing being, that even if he could see through the Mark XVI'th helmet that there was life not far from him, was that if Clint had been standing there just thirty seconds before, then how the hell was he behind a car, apparently sitting down? And, what was this with the perspective being off? Clint wasn't that little!

However, when Stark pulled off the head of the suit to see for himself what was going on, he saw the bundle of Clint's uniform lying on the ground where the being had engulfed him in his last wishes, and a frightened “Uh oh,” escaped his lips.

That, of course had caused Natasha to stop whatever she was doing. “It's not a good sign when you say that, Stark, what's going on? D'you know why Clint isn't answering over the comm?” she asked, and Stark had to think twice about what he was supposed to answer.

“I'm not sure, let me check back to you in thirty seconds,” he answered, as he left his standing point and crossed the few metres between him, and the car that Clint had apparently chosen to hide behind.

“Uh, Barton, you okay?” he asked, but what he saw made him stop right up.

A little boy, wearing an oversized SHIELD shirt, was lying down on the ground, half under the car, clutching Clint's bow, his small fingers white. He'd closed his eyes, and looked like he was scared out of his wits.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing here?” Stark asked, and the little boy opened his eyes, saw Stark from the corner of his eyes, and immediately got up to run away, except that he hit his head on the car he'd been hiding under in his rush, and froze. Stark sensed that the little boy was on the verge of one thing: crying. And the last thing he needed right now was a child crying on his conscience, with Natasha Romanoff probably already on her way here to kill him with her little finger.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, calm down, what's your name?” he tried, but the kid just stayed there, completely frozen.

“Stark, looking for your ego?” Natasha's voice rung in his ears, and Stark promptly stood up again, hiding the child behind his legs, knowing damn well that Natasha would figure out in approximately fifteen seconds what was going on.

“No, I'm not looking after anything. Absolutely nothing.”

“Yeah, Thor lies better than you, Tony,” she answered, and crouched to see what was going on under that car. When her eyes met the little boy's, she froze too.

“Why is there a 4 year old kid hiding under that car? I thought we cleared the area for civilians, and kids before all hell broke loose?” she asked. “Wasn't Clint supposed to take those kindergarten kids to safety first?”

Stark huffed slightly, hoping that she'd make the link herself. Especially since the little boy was still holding Clint's bow tighlty against his chest.

Natasha got down on all fours, to be on level with the child, and that's when she realized what he was holding in his hands. “Where did you get that?” she asked him, gently, but firmly, not ready to take any sort of bullshit from anybody.

Silence. The child just looked from her to Stark, who'd crouched again, unknowing of what to do or what to say. He held the bow tighter.

“Hey, buddy. Where did you get that? Did Clint give it to you?” she asked, surprised that Clint would give his bow to a child. But where was he anyways? Stark pushed himself upright again, and saw Cap and the gang come towards them, looking like they'd taken care of the source from the beings.

Natasha stayed on all fours. She held out her hand. “Here, if you give it to me, it'll be easier for you to crawl out from under there,” she said, but the little child just looked on, and pulled the bow even closer, refusing to let it go even a little bit.

“Stark, Natasha, what's going on?” she heard Steve ask.

“Uh, we're not quite sure,” Stark answered. “There's a situation under the car, we're not quit-”

But the Hulk had decided that it wasn't going to wait for an explanation, so he'd pulled the car up and thrown it away. Within the couple of seconds it'd taken the adults to realize what was going on, the little boy had clutched the bow and had made for Natasha's legs, hiding behind them, the bow standing out on both sides of her.

“A kid?” Steve exclaimed, disappointed and shocked.

“Wasn't Barton supposed to get them all to-”

“I don't know, he told us that he got them all ou-”

“Greetings, little one, what are you-”

“Guys.”

“Where is he anywa-”

“I told him specifically to not let the kids come ba-”

“Guys, _hello_.”

“He's not answering his co-”

“Why is the kid holding his bo-”

“GUYS!”

Stark had finally yelled loud enough to get their attention, and even the Hulk seemed startled by the sudden outlet.

“Jeez, thanks for shutting up.” He paused, slightly. “I think we should go back to the quinjet and watch the footage I captured, it'll make everything a lot easier. Because you won't believe me, even if I tell you what I think happened.”

The little boy peeked out from behind Natasha's legs, trying to hold on to both the bow and the fabric of her suit. Looking down at him, Natasha felt like there was something familiar about him. The bow seemed strangely familiar on him, but it was way too big for him.

The team watched her watching him.

“Hey, little fella, d'you mind coming with us so you can tell us where you got the bow?” Steve asked, gently, kneeling to be on the level of the child, who just stood there, eyes open wide, still wondering what was going on, and why everybody was dressed funny. “It's just over there, see,” Steve pointed, and the little boy's eyes flew towards the quinjet. He then nodded, but refused to move.

Steve got up again, and looked at Natasha. “You can get him there safely, the rest of us'll see what Stark has to show us,” he stated matter-of-factly, and the Widow nodded. She turned around as the team started moving towards the quinjet. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked down at the boy.

“Buddy, d'you think it's okay for me to carry you to the plane over there?” The little boy took a step back, carefully, before assessing the distance between her and the plane. He then gave her the slightest little nod, and put out his arms so that it was easier for her to pick him up.

Pulling him up, she settled his weight against her hip, so that she could hold him up and still have a hand free, in case something should happen and she needed to shoot something in the face. Bending forward against her, the little boy struggled to get a little bit higher up, so she pushed him up, readjusting him against her torso. Holding the bow tight, the kid put his head against her shoulder and looked behind her.

Natasha crossed the distance to the quinjet fast, but apparently not fast enough to join the team in discovering the footage Stark had been talking about, because when she came into the hold of the jet, everybody turned. The Hulk, who'd shrunk in size and turned back into Banner, turned too.

“Uhm, Natasha,” Steve started, as he walked towards her, “You're going to want to see this, but he shouldn't,” he stated, as he put out his hands. The little boy shooed away from his arms, and pushed himself away, trying to climb to Natasha's back, but she held him firmly in place.

“What is it?” she asked, firmly, showing Steve that he shouldn't come closer to the little boy. For some reason, she didn't want the boy to be startled.

“It's uh...” Steve tried, but didn't find his words. Bruce, who gotten his hands on a shirt, came closer and smiled at the little boy who was eyeing him carefully.

“I think I know what this little guy's name is,” Bruce started, smiling at the kid, before putting on his shirt. “If I whisper it to you, will you tell me if it's true or not?” he asked the little boy, who, after a couple of seconds' thought nodded, agreeing to it, still holding the bow as if his life depended on it.

Bruce came closer, and leaned close to the boy's ears, and whispered something. The little boy nodded almost immediately, and Bruce exchanged looks with Natasha, and Steve, and they both knew.

“D'you think you can tell everyone here what your name is?” The boy shook his head, negatively, at Bruce's request. “Do you want me to tell them?” he then asked, and the boy nodded, bending slightly forward to hide his face in Natasha's neckline.

“Everybody, this is Clint. Clint, I'm Bruce, this is Steve, that's Thor, that over there is Tony, and the lovely lady who's holding you right now is-”

“Natasha.”

The little kid hadn't said a word yet, but he cut the name from Bruce's mouth without a second's hesitation. He hadn't even said it as a guess, he knew. The widow looked down at him, and readjusted him against her waist and in her arms.

“Do you know how old you are?” Bruce asked Clint, who turned his head out of Natasha's neckline to look at him. He let go of the bow with one hand and put up four little fingers, holding the thumb into his palm, before clutching the bow again. “You're four years old?” Little Clint nodded.

Silence followed, and Bruce was the first one to break it. “Alright, everybody, I think Natasha here needs to see what happened. Is it okay if you stay with me while she watches the video?” he asked Clint, who nodded gently, as Steve, Thor and Tony left the room, mumbling something about aliens and creatures from outer space. Putting out his small arms, the little boy waited for Bruce to take him from Natasha's grip.

The moment he was out of her reach, she went to the screen, and called up the video footage the team had just seen.

“That's a nice bow you got there. Do you know how to use it?” Bruce asked Clint, and the little boy shook his head. “Then why are you holding it?” the scientist asked, and Clint pulled it closer to his heart, as if to show him that it felt right to hold it, for some reason. “Oh, I see,” Bruce stated, to reassure the kid, and looked up when Natasha came back, looking... startled.

“You wanna go back to Natasha?” Bruce asked, but Clint had seen that she didn't look as confident as before, and he shook his head. “You want to stay with me?” Clint shook his head again, and Bruce bent slightly forward to put him down.

Clint then trailed towards Natasha, and stopped in front of her, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. Once she was looking at him, he raised up his arms and offered her the bow.

“Safe,” he said, as he did it, and Natasha turned around, and left, the same way Steve and the others had left. Little Clint put down his hands, looked down at the bow, before turning around to watch Bruce, his eyes glistening with sadness. “Mad?” he asked him, and Bruce pursed his lips, unsure of what to answer.

“No, she's not mad, Clint,” Bruce then said, as he sighed. “I think she just needs a couple of hours, she's had a very tireing day,” he stated apologetically, while Clint turned his head to watch the way she'd left, clutching the bow against his chest like it meant everything to him.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a big blob. I wanted to write some stuff down, and I did, and I'll update soon again, I promise! :)  
> None of the characters are mine. Unfortunately.

The debriefing from the mission was hell. No other word. Fury had been, well, furious, at the fact that Clint had gotten into magic again, after Loki, and that he'd been the only one who'd gotten compromised again. Natasha had refused to acknowledge that the child was Clint, refusing to talk to him. That hadn't gone unnoticed by the little boy, who had asked several times for Natasha. By name.

But, when she hadn't come, the day after the incident, he'd thrown a tantrum that had disrupted the entire team, and had even had Bruce retreat to his room for fear of hulking out. The cries of the little boy had disappeared when a team of medics had come to take the boy away. Screaming and scratching, little Clint had refused to leave Tony's presence, and had even called out at Bruce, his voice breaking in a wail. As a scientist, and the one who'd been able to calm down the child one time, Bruce had agreed to accompany Clint to the medibay, to make sure the tests weren't too strange or too inappropriate for a kid of 4 years of age.

Natasha was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't been seen since she'd seen the footage of the transformation, actually, and even JARVIS couldn't pick up her position. When she wanted to disappear, Natasha did a good job at it.

*

“Stark, we can't have a child running around in the tower.” Steve had taken on his formal voice, and tried to get Tony to agree with him. Thor had gone back to Asgard, Natasha was gone, Clint was with Bruce and the doctors, so the team kind of only consisted of the two of them.

And, it looked very much like Tony wanted Clint to stay with them at the tower, and he was even willing to foolproof every single piece of electronics in the building so that a child could roam around freely.

“Yes, we can. Clint spent enough time in the system when he was a child the first time, and I think we all remember how they treated him after New York.” Tony paused, glaring back at Steve, who bit his lower lip.

“Doesn't change the fact that he is four years old. Four. Tony. He can't possibly survive on his own in this environment, and I doubt any of us would want to graduate to wetnurse to take care of him.”

“I could have Happy do it. Or Pepper,” Tony answered, slightly rebellious, as he pulled up some of his personel files on the tactile kitchen table.

“I hardly think Pepper's going to want to babysit a child when she has your corporation to manage,” Steve sighed, as he pinched the brinch of his nose. “And with what AIM did to her, I don't think it's-”

“Safe?” Tony cut, abruptly, “Come on, gramps, we know she's the most adequate babysitter for Clint here.”

Steve let out a long sigh, as he turned around and stopped right up. Tony looked up from the screen he was messing with (Happy? Pepper? Rhodey?) and stopped as well. It had been three days, and even though that wasn't such a long time for a spy to disappear, when she disappeared for no reason (even Fury had wondered where the fuck she'd gone), it meant that she'd chosen to.

But there she was. Late at night, almost a day after they'd taken Clint away for tests.

“Clint's staying at the tower,” she stated, matter-of-factly, as she put down an enveloppe on the table, before leaving the living room. Steve and Tony, still startled, watched her go, before exchanging a glance.

Tony went for the enveloppe, and opened it carefully – it wasn't sealed, but he still felt that whatever was in it, it would probably not be jokes on paper. Steve came over to read over his shoulder.

“Clinton Francis Barton, medical file, 2014 Vulture Incident,” it read.

“Agent Barton, codename Hawkeye, deaged 3 decades, to 4 years of age.

Remembers nothing of past self.

Medical evaluation: 3 bruised ribs, radius still healing from recent fracture. Explained by Barton. Thinks he was beaten by his Father. Banner (Codename: The Hulk) corrected: explained by Barton's last mission (Vultures, Chicago).

Left ear: 6/10

Right ear: 4/10

Left eye: 10/10

Right eye: 10/10 (NB: Succeeded all visual tests and asked for more tests.)

Scored an IQ of 124, qualified as superior. Able to solve equations and logic tasks. Refused to display abilities until Banner asked if Barton wanted to play chess.”

Putting down the results, it was Tony's turn to sigh. “Looks like the little Clint has a lot to tell us,” he finally stated, as he left Steve to read it over.

*

“Whe' are we going?” Clint asked, as he held Bruce's hand tightly, following him down some stairs, taking it one step at a time.

“We're going home,” Bruce answered, as he tightened his grip on Clint's little fingers. The little boy had refused to be carried down the stairs – he'd been carried around enough, during the day.

“Whe' 's ome?' he asked again, as he concentrated to not miss a step, following Bruce's lead as to when to step down, and when to stop up to wait to take the next step.

“Home is in that big tower you slept in last night.” Bruce readjusted a pack on his back, and caught Clint's balance with his hand, gently tugging the boy upright, since he'd apparently missed the step.

“I like big tower,” Clint stated, with a sheepish grin on his face, looking up at Bruce, somehow forgetting to look at where he was going. Bruce caught his balance again, and pushed him upright again, assuring the kid that he had his balance. “S'nice. But not Natasha. Tasha gones.”

Nodding, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Bruce sighed. “Natasha is on a holiday. She'll be back, don't worry.” He smiled at the kid, and gave his guest card at the clerk in the entrance of the hall, and walked the little boy outside. He felt the boy tug at his hand, and looked down. “What is it, buddy?”

“I wan' up up up,” Clint stated, when Bruce let go of his hand, raising his arms so it would be easier for Bruce to pull him up.

“Alright, but we're going to get into that car over there, okay? And then home, and you're going to bed, just like the doctor said.” Picking up the child and settling him against his chest, Bruce smiled at Happy, who'd been appointed to pick them up.

“Chess. Then bed,” Clint claimed, against Bruce's throat, as he hid his face in the crook of Bruce's neck. Hiding from Happy had been the game this morning when he'd been frightened by the doctors, and it seemed he was still playing that game. Well, at least, it would be easier to get him home and to bed than getting him out of bed and to the medibay...  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give Clint issues with hearing even when he was a kid, bc of my ever lasting love of Clint being deaf as an adult.  
> & I also wanted to give Clint massive intellect that he just hides behind a silly façade too. So yeah. Tadah.


End file.
